Hurt
by evieeden
Summary: Bella retreats back to Washington and attempts to heal from the mistakes of the past. Post-BD.


**This is one of those ideas that got in my head and then stayed there until I wrote it done. It deals with a bit of a sensitive issue, so mind yourself when reading it. Anyway, I hope you all like it.**

**Thanks so much to the lovely Hev1999 who beta'd this for me. She's a star. As always, I own nothing to do with Twilight.**

**Hurt**

The cottage was practically bare when I struggled through the door, bags of groceries in my hands. It had that faint, musty smell of somewhere that had been shut up for far too long, and a thick layer of dust covered every surface. Pushing my way into the kitchen, I set the bags onto the counter before heading back out to my truck for the rest of my belongings. It wasn't the same as my loyal truck that had seen me all through high school – that had broken down one hot, summer day not long after I graduated – but a replacement that Alice had acquired for me. For once she had abandoned her nonchalant attitude towards spending money on top-of-the-range goods and actually bought me a vehicle that was cheap, second-hand and something that I loved.

It was her parting gift to me. Alice, and probably Jasper as well, knew that this time I wouldn't be back. Everyone else still hoped I'd change my mind eventually.

I hauled my bags out of the bed of the truck; I had only a backpack and a suitcase to my name, everything else had been left behind. Everything else was unnecessary.

I was starting over, trying to make something new of my life. I wasn't even twenty-one years old and yet I felt as if I had sped through my life already, cramming everything most people would take thirty years to accomplish into two.

I dropped my bag and suitcase on the floor of my new bedroom. The stark white walls appeared to mock me with their blankness. Everything was white here, and I resolved that as soon as I was feeling up to venturing into the nearest town, I would buy some paint to brighten the place up.

For now though the white suited me; it represented the clean slate I wanted my new life to begin with.

My phone rang then, its shrill tone reverberating off the walls of the cottage and I winced at the loud noise even as I amended my previous thought – I was going to start with an _almost_ blank slate. Some things couldn't be left behind though.

I answered the call automatically, barely registering that I had picked it up. "Hello?"

"Oh good, you made it there safely. I saw that you would, of course, but with you I'm never certain that what I see is actually going to happen or if you're going to have an accident along the way." The flurry of words streamed down the line and it took me a second to decipher them.

"Hello, Alice." Although I had ultimately left the Cullens to get away from the memories being around them invoked, my tone was still warm. I loved Alice like a sister, and although I needed space and time to myself, I also needed that connection.

She barely paused for breath around my greeting. "So I can see that you got there okay, but you should check to make sure they've put the gas and the electricity on. Oh, and the water. I did call to make sure, but until you actually use one of those things, I won't know for definite. And if you're going to buy paint tomorrow for the house remember that the lighter blue will work better if you want to let more light in. The blue that you pick first is going to be too dark and you'll end up hating it, but won't have the energy to change it, and you don't want to be stuck with _that_ colour for the next five years, trust me."

"Check, no dark blue," I agreed.

I expected another list of instructions on how to decorate once she had my agreement over the paint, but a long silence drifted down the line as Alice hesitated over what to say next.

"How are you feeling, Bella? Honestly?" she finally asked.

My smile faded and my hand rose unbidden to rest upon my stomach, my fingers tracing the rough skin left there.

"I'm..." I cut myself off, unable to make myself lie to her.

"Yeah." The sadness in her voice leaked through the line.

I bit my lip, unsure of whether to ask. Luckily, Alice knew what I was going to say before the words left my mouth.

"He's fine. He misses you, of course, and wonders if he could've done anything more -"

"He couldn't," I interrupted her. "He did nothing wrong. It was all me -"

This time it was Alice who interrupted me. "Don't put all the blame on yourself, Bella. You didn't do anything wrong either. Neither of you can help the way you feel about it, and each other."

A lump made itself known in my throat. "I still love him, you know," I confessed in a small voice, tears beginning to prick the corners of my eyes.

"And he loves you, too," she replied swiftly. "It just..." She paused, the uncertainty uncharacteristic of her.

"I know. It wouldn't have been enough, not for me anyway. I would've ended up hating him and I never wanted that. It was better that he let me go."

"All right then, as long as you're sure." Alice didn't sound convinced, but I knew that she, better than anyone else, understood the pain and bitterness not leaving would have caused. "I better go now. Are you sure you're going to be alright? I can be down there in a few hours if you want me to be."

I laughed softly. "I'll be just fine, Alice. I just need to get this place looking a bit more homely and then I'll be able to settle down here a bit better."

"Well, all right then. I'll speak to you later?"

"Of course," I reassured her. "You know you can call anytime."

"Love you." Her voice, tinged with sadness, floated quietly down the line.

"Love you too, Alice. I'll talk to you later."

The silence fell over me heavier than before once she hung up, and I momentarily questioned the wisdom of trying to start over here from scratch by myself. I shook off my melancholy though; now was not the time to doubt myself, especially when I needed to be strong just to keep moving every day.

Sighing, I began to make the cottage more habitable, unpacking my clothes and books and making up the bare bed. The number of belongings I had brought with me was pitifully small, but I reminded myself that I couldn't start fresh if I was dragging a U-Haul of junk halfway across the country. By the time I was done it was dark and I retreated to the bedroom, shedding my jeans onto the floor thankfully. Ever since...before...I hated wearing pants; the waistbands usually dug into my stomach right where the scarring was at its most sensitive and I hated the reminder of how I had got it.

Stripping off, I flopped onto my bed, my fingers inadvertently falling over my stomach. As I had done so many nights before, I found myself idly tracing the raised lines carved into my skin.

I wasn't awake when I got them, having been forcibly sedated, but I remembered the pain I had felt waking up. I remembered lowering my hand to touch my bump, only to find a mass of bandages and my little Nudger gone. I remembered the look of guilt on Edward's face when my eyes had frantically darted around the room, searching for a baby that I knew in my heart wasn't there anymore.

We had tried to go back to normal afterwards, tried to carry on with our married lives, but I couldn't do it. Every time I looked at him, at Carlisle, at Jasper, who had helped to restrain Rosalie, I couldn't help but see the men who had conspired to rob me of my child. Sure, I knew that they had acted with my best interests at heart – I had been dying and my baby would never have survived to come to term – but I had been willing to take that chance; I had wanted my Nudger more than anything in my life, more...

...more than Edward even.

Edward, however, just wanted me alive.

So we had gone to Dartmouth, as planned, and tried to recover the relationship we had once had.

It took me two years to stop flinching anytime he came near me. I spent most of my time at home with the women of the family, crying endless tears into the shoulders of Esme and Rosalie. During the rest of the time I worked, drowning my sorrows in my studies. I may have had a broken marriage, but at least I was reporting a 4.0 GPA back to Charlie.

Over time, Edward and I just grew further and further apart.

He wouldn't touch me so long as I was still human in case I became pregnant again and I began to resent even further his choices regarding me and my body. I could almost understand why he had taken the decision to abort my baby, but all other decisions were mine and mine alone and he refused to let me make them, despite the fact that I was more of an adult than he would ever be.

Any conversation we had became stilted and forced, the two of us just going through the motions of being happily in love together. And all the while I seethed inside.

Then last month things had finally come to a head.

I knew that if our relationship had any chance of recovery then we would have to work together, talk to each other.

But I couldn't forget what he had done, and Edward wouldn't apologise for it.

I made the decision the next day to leave him.

I just couldn't do it anymore and staying would only have made me angrier, destroyed my soul that little bit more.

So I finished the year at Dartmouth and then took a year-long break from college. The family didn't protest much; they could see how unhappy I was. I had begun to look for somewhere to stay when Alice had found this cottage an hour's drive outside of Port Angeles. At first I had resisted moving back to Washington and all the memories it held for me, but my sister had convinced me that I would still be in a completely new area, while still being close enough to Charlie and Forks if I wanted human contact again.

My father didn't know everything that had happened between Edward and I; he certainly didn't know about my pregnancy and the forced abortion, but during one awkward phone call I had haltingly revealed that married life wasn't really turning out as I had hoped.

Alice was right; I liked knowing that I could see him if I wanted to. Charlie had made a point of stressing that the door was always open to me if I wanted to come home again. I didn't know if I wanted to go back to Forks, but I knew I should phone my father at some point and let him know where I now was.

With that last thought, I drifted off to sleep.

Over the next few days I began to settle into my new life. I went to the nearest hardware store and bought some paint for my cottage – light blue as instructed – then came home and decorated. I unpacked all of my remaining belongings and when I was finished, my little house finally felt homely.

It was only then, when I was fully comfortable in my new home, that I finally called Charlie.

"Bella?"

"Hi Dad." The silence on the other end was testament to how disconnected I had been from my family since I had moved to New Hampshire. "How have you been?"

"Oh, you know, fishing's been good, work's been quiet. Billy and Jacob were asking after you the other day. I told them how you'd aced all your classes this year." He sounded so proud of me. "How about you?"

I went to tell him that I was fine, but the words stuck in my throat.

"Bella? Are you still there?"

"I'm here," I managed.

"You are okay, aren't you?" His voice was now laden with concern. "You don't need me to come and get you from Hanover or anything? I know you said that you and Edward were having some problems before..." He paused to let me speak and I burst into tears.

"Bella...Bella...please don't cry. What happened, sweetheart? Did he hurt you? I'm going to kill him. Do you need me to come and get you? I can be there tomorrow. Just let me call the station and get someone in to cover me..."

"No. No, Dad." I finally pulled myself together long enough to reply to his frenzy of panicked words. "I'm fine. I'm fine really. I'm... I'm not even in New Hampshire anymore."

"What?" That took him by surprise.

"Daddy, I've left Edward."

There was no sound but the crackling of the line for a full two minutes.

"Oh, Bella. What happened? Where are you if not in Hanover?"

"I'm in Washington," I rushed to reassure him. "I'm staying in a cottage just outside Bremerton."

Charlie took a deep breath. "Well...why didn't you come home? You know you can always come back and stay with me, don't you?"

"I know." I sniffled and wiped my face on my sleeve. "I just... I just needed a break from everyone...and everything. I just need time to think."

"Well, what happened? Last time I talked to you everything was fine. I mean, you said that you and Edward were having a rough couple of months, but nothing serious." He was completely bewildered.

I opened my mouth to tell him what happened and then just froze.

"Bella? Honey, are you still there?"

"I'm still here."

Charlie clearly didn't know what to say. "Do you... Are you sure you don't want to come home?"

I blurted it out with no warning, the words forcing their way out of my throat. "I was pregnant."

Nothing.

Then... "What?"

"When we came back from our honeymoon, I was pregnant."

"When you came back... Bella, that was two years ago. Are you telling me I have a grandchild?" Poor Charlie.

"No." I couldn't help the wail that escaped me.

"Bella...I... What happened?"

The story came out in halted sentences. "The baby was... I was ill with the pregnancy... There were complications... It got so bad that they had to decide whether to save me or to save my baby..."

I couldn't get the next part out.

Charlie finished the sentence for me, understanding the situation perfectly. "Edward chose you."

I nodded, the tears streaming down my face, but then realised that he couldn't see me.

"Yes." I rushed through the next part of my explanation. "I tried so hard, Daddy. I tried so hard to make it work. I tried so hard to love him the same as before..."

"Sshhh," Charlie hushed me. "Don't, baby girl. You can't force yourself to love someone and sometimes you can't help drifting apart."

At this reassurance, my sobs grew louder and Charlie began to mutter incomprehensible words of comfort. After a while I slowly began to calm down, my tears dissolving into hiccups as I tried to catch my breath.

"Do you want me to come down to visit? You don't have to come back to Forks if it's too painful, but at least give me the address so I can come and visit you. Please, Bella?"

I sniffled and wiped my nose on the back of my hand.

"You don't need to come here. I'm fine. I just need some time to myself for a while; I need time to think."

"Are you sure? I can call Steve now and get him to cover for me. I'll be there in about two hours..."

"Dad...Dad!" I finally shouted over Charlie's mutterings of taking leave at such short notice. "I'm okay, I'm okay. You don't need to rush down here. Really."

Charlie huffed and muttered but eventually he gave in. I gave him my new address to stop him worrying but made him promise at the same time not to visit straight away.

The summer passed slowly in my new house. Most of the time I preferred to be alone, but every now and then loneliness forced me out into the town. It was strangely pleasant to be able to interact with people who knew nothing of my past, people that I could actually talk to without the voice in the back of my head warning me not to get too close. I hadn't realised before just how disconnected from the world I had felt while living with the Cullens.

As the new college year got closer and closer I began to question whether I should isolate myself further by taking online classes or if I should consider enrolling at a community college and transferring my credits there. Bremerton had its own college that I could apply to, or I could move closer to Charlie and go to school in Port Angeles. We talked to each other weekly now and I knew from the tone of his voice that he missed me. He had probably missed me before as well, but with my problems with Edward I hadn't been aware of just how much he loved having me live with him.

I thought about it for the next few days, well, obsessed mainly.

I loved my little cottage, loved that it was just mine. I loved that I had decorated it and made it mine, not the Cullens' or Charlie's or Renee's, just mine.

But was that enough to keep me here?

I had spent hours literally navel-gazing, my fingers running repetitively over my scarring, my mind drifting over to my memory of being pregnant. I had wanted my baby, wanted it desperately, but I didn't really remember any happiness associated with my pregnancy. There had been shock and confusion when I had first figured out why I felt so sick all the time, then anger and hurt when Edward had immediately called Carlisle requesting help to "sort it out." The rest of my pregnancy had sped by, every moment heightened by adrenaline as the man I loved and his family, my family too, plotted to save me at the expense of my child. I had been left clinging to Rosalie and Esme, frightened out of my wits. Alice had disappeared into the forest, unable to bear the visions of the future that hit her when she was around us. Jacob had appeared and then disappeared as soon as he had found out, unwilling to watch me kill myself.

I had been so alone.

Alone in that house, surrounded my husband and my new family, alone again in Dartmouth with nothing but my simmering rage to keep me company, and alone here as I tried to put my mind at peace.

I was so tired of being alone.

I would go home. There were people in Forks who cared about me. Maybe it wasn't with the fierce passion displayed by Edward and the Cullens with their heightened emotions, but it was just as strong.

There was one thing I needed to do first.

He answered on the first ring of the phone, just like I knew he would.

"Bella."

"Edward."

We didn't speak. I was overcome with emotion, my long-held feelings of love for this man overwhelming me for a minute, the sound of my heartbeat whooshing through my ear deafening me.

He spoke first. "How are you now?"

"I'm good. I'm better."

I could hear him fidgeting on the other end of the line, his ingrained human habits coming to the fore as they did anytime he was overwhelmed.

"I miss you," he finally said.

My breath caught and I fought against the tears that immediately threatened to fall from my eyes.

"I... I'm not coming back, Edward."

It was the first time I'd said it out loud.

Silence.

"I know."

I was crying now, tears streaming down my face at the desolation in his voice. "I'm going home...back to Forks."

There was no reply from the other end so I carried on talking.

"I just wanted to tell you that I understand. I know why you did what you did. I don't agree with it, but I understand why you did it."

"I just wanted you to be safe, to be alive," he choked out.

"I know." I took a deep breath; this was the hard part for me. "I don't think that what you did was the right thing, not for me, but I want to thank you for giving me yet another chance at life." I laughed somewhat hysterically. "You must be sick of saving me by now."

"Never," he quickly vowed.

Silence fell over the line once more and I briefly mourned a time when we could be at peace together, whether we were talking or just enjoying each other's company, instead of this awkward pause.

"I forgive you." It was just a whisper; I couldn't make myself say it any louder, but I knew that he heard me.

His breath shuddered. "Thank you," he finally said.

This next part was going to be hard. I forced back the lump in my throat.

"I'm not going to call again, Edward. I need... I need to move on. And you do too."

I bit my lip as I waited for him to respond.

Finally he spoke. "Will you please take care of yourself? I know before..." – memories of that terrible time when he had left struck – "...I had no right to ask, but please, for me, take care of yourself."

"I will." It was the last promise I would make to him. "Please take care of yourself as well, Edward."

"For you, I will," he swore.

I stuck my hand in my mouth to stop the loud cries that wanted to erupt as I slowly cut the bonds that held Edward and I together.

"I'm going to say goodbye now."

"Bella," he spoke quickly, obviously afraid I would hang up. "I just... I wish you well for the future." He spoke formally, clearly trying to distance himself, but a moment later his voice cracked. "I love you."

I stopped breathing for a second.

"I love you, too."

I cut the call off before I found myself doing something stupid like begging him to come and get me. At this moment in time, I wanted nothing more than to run back to New Hampshire as fast as I could.

But it wouldn't change anything. We would still be right back where we were.

I spent the rest of the evening huddled on the sofa, my arms wrapped tightly around my knees, holding myself together.

The next day I got up and started packing. Everything I'd accumulated over the four months I'd been here went into my truck. I hesitated to leave though, wandering around the now empty cottage, brushing my hand against the dustsheets that I had covered the furniture in.

I would keep this cottage, I decided. This was my refuge, my safe place, and I didn't want to let it go. I forced myself not to look back as I drove away, not to just turn around and run back to hide myself away again.

My nerves shot up the closer I got to Forks and it wasn't until I was halfway between there and Port Angeles that I realised that I hadn't called Charlie to let him know that I was coming. For all I knew he could be at work or fishing when I got back.

This triggered another panic attack and it wasn't until I saw the patrol car sitting in front of the tiny white house that I relaxed.

Other than leaving the Cullens, climbing the three steps leading up to the front door was the hardest thing I had ever done. I knocked on the door and waited.

Charlie opened it, the look of shock on his face at seeing me melting into a smile. In a rare display of affection he reached out and grabbed me into a hug and I let it all out, crying and laughing and shaking and clinging to my father for support.

When I finally felt like I could stand on my own two feet again, I pulled back. I wiped the tears from my face; Charlie's eyes were suspiciously shiny as well.

"Hi Daddy."

He grinned at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling in happiness.

"Welcome back, Bells."


End file.
